


The Arthur Dent Guide to Getting Over Breakups

by phoebeserena



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Alternate Universe, But not as much as there could be, Drunk Kissing, Fluff, Kissing, Lots of kissing, M/M, Sober kissing, Space idiots, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebeserena/pseuds/phoebeserena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Arthur thinks, you really do need a guide to life. Especially in situations like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Arthur Dent Guide to Getting Over Breakups

Overall, it had been a terrible evening.

It had started off, as most of Arthur’s binge-drinking nights did, with a break-up phone call from a girl. Or in this case, a text message. Invariably, this sent him slouching of to the nearest pub, where he invariably met his good friend, Ford Prefect, who seemed to spend most of his time there. From there, the evenings usually planned out pretty much the same; Arthur would nurse his one pint all night while Ford slowly drank the bar dry until closing time. Ford would roam the streets aimlessly, accosting police men and old ladies to ask if they had seen any flying saucers, green ones, while a depressingly sober Arthur tried vainly to control him. The night would end with Ford snoring on Arthur’s sofa, while the latter man lay in bed and wondered why exactly he had decided to leave the house in the first place.

This evening, however, had been different.

The text was from a girl called Mellissa, and it couldn’t really be described as a break up since they had only really been on two dates. Arthur had been devastated nonetheless.

“What’s wrong with me, Ford?” Arthur had complained to his friend later that evening, clutching his fifth pint like a drowning man would clutch a piece of driftwood. “I’m thirty, and Mellissa was the closest thing I’ve had to a girlfriend in nearly two years! What is it about me that’s so unlovable?”

Ford considered the question carefully. “Well for one thing, you complain rather a lot.” he said, scratching his chin in thought. “That gets old after a while, I can tell you. And I wouldn’t exactly describe you as a party animal, would you?” Ford downed the rest of his pint and leant forward. “Now Arthur, there’s something I have to…  
”  
“But I’m sensible.” Arthur continued miserably. “Girls like guys who are sensible, don’t they? And reliable and trustworthy- I’m all of those things!” He waved his pint glass around for emphasis, before it slipped from his fingers and smashed to the ground at the feet of a large, muscular man, rather like a refrigerator with tattoos.

“Yes, yes.” If Arthur was in his right mind, he would have noticed that Ford seemed surprisingly sober for so late in the evening. His oddly wide blue eyes kept glancing upwards, as if he was expecting the ceiling to fall on their heads any second. “There really is something I need to…”

“Oi, mate.” The refrigerator had turned round and was addressing Arthur, his arms folded menacingly. “Was it you what threw that glass at me, eh?”

Arthur looked the guy up and down slowly, before turning to Ford again. “See, this guy.” He slurred, poking the refrigerator in his bulging bicep. “This guy could get all the girls he wanted. But a nice guy like me, well, just look at me now!”

A peculiar hush had fallen over the pub as the refrigerator narrowed his eyes. “You what?”

“What does it say about society, eh?” Arthur, in his drunken state, had given up talking to Ford and was now addressing the entire room. “I’m left alone while tattooed thugs like this, with no degree and little intelligence, they’re the ones with girls falling at their feet! I work in radio, for God’s sa-“

*****

So yes, overall it had been a terrible evening.

“Why did she leave me?” Arthur moaned as he was tugged down the street by an extremely irritable Ford.

“It’s not fair!” he groaned, as Ford helped him up the stairs to his apartment.

“I’m going to die alone, Ford.” he whined, as Ford fumbled with his keys at the door to his flat.

With a click, the door swung open and Ford turned round angrily to face his friend. Like Arthur, he was sporting a cut lip as well as a rapidly developing black eye. After the refrigerator had thrown the first punch, Ford had stepped in until the barman threw all of them out. It was clear that Ford, while stocky and surprisingly strong, had been no match for his opponent.

“Look Arthur, will you just shut it?” he said peevishly as he tugged Arthur into his flat and pushed him down on the sofa. A cup of cold coffee was sitting on the coffee table- it had clearly been there for hours. Ford sniffed it, before handing it to Arthur.

“I was told that Earthlings were boring, but you really take it to another level.” Ford continued, picking up a beeping, flashing device and shaking it irritably until the beeping stopped. He glared at the object for a moment, before throwing it back onto the coffee table.

In his drunken state, Arthur chose to ignore Ford’s last comment. Obediently, he took a sip of the coffee and made a face at the bitter flavour. “Got any tea?”

Ford shot Arthur a look, before pulling a chair round so that it was facing the man on the sofa. Ford sat on it and put his head in his hands, his electric blue eyes boring into Arthur’s watery ones. After several minutes of this, it occurred to Arthur that he should be feeling uncomfortable.

“Ford…”

“Thinking.” Ford replied, still staring at his friend. Arthur realised with a jolt that he hadn’t seen Ford blink once in the past few minutes.

After a pause, Arthur tried again. “Thinking?”

Ford stood up suddenly, crossing the room in a few strides and sat himself facing Arthur on the sofa with his legs crossed. Hesitantly, Arthur did the same, so they were sitting facing each other.

“About us.” Ford said his face expressionless.

“Us?” All at once, a million thoughts were rushing through Arthurs drink-addled mind. Us? He was suddenly aware of Ford’s knees touching his, the hand he had placed on Ford’s leg to steady himself, and he could feel his face burning. His drunken brain struggled to make sense of the situation. But Ford couldn’t mean… that? Ford was straight, Arthur was straight… wasn’t he?

Ford had remained completely impassive, unaware of the bloody battle taking place in his friends mind. “You. Me. Us.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “See, I might be going away tomorrow.”

Oh. Arthur felt himself relax, and took a large sip of the disgusting coffee to steady himself. Completely stupid. He was obviously drunker than he thought. To be fair, right now all he wanted to do was lie down on Ford’s surprisingly comfy sofa and sleep. Already he could feel his eyelids beginning to droop.

I should probably take my hand off his leg, he thought sleepily, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Strange that he isn’t moving away.

“But-“ Ford coughed, suddenly looking almost nervous. But- Ford? Nervous? It was unheard of. “I would rather like you to come with me.”

Arthur frowned, shaking his head to clear it. “Me? But… where?”

Ford shrugged. “Not too sure, to be honest.” Suddenly, his face was lit up by his traditional manic grin. “But it’s kind of a do it or die situation, really.”

Instead of finding his smile unnerving, as he had when he had first met Ford, Arthur now found it strangely familiar and comforting. “But… why me?”

Ford’s blue eyes practically glowed. “You’re my favourite Earthling. Out of those I’ve met, anyway.” He leaned in slightly, still grinning like he was about to take a bite out of his friends neck.

Arthur’s brain was on the verge of sleeping. All the alcohol from the night had gone to his head, but he was still aware of his hand on Ford’s leg, Ford’s own hand resting on his thigh, and that his face was now hardly more than a few centimetres away from that of his best friends. Arthur had to lick his lips, before whispering “Ford?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Ford’s grin grew wider, and Arthur felt his heart stop as those impossibly blue eyes flickered down to his lips. “Maybe. Would you… like me to, then?”

Ford was so close that Arthur could feel their lips brushing. He found himself holding his breath, but managed to whisper in a voice that was barely audible “I think so.”

A second later, Ford captured Arthur’s lips in his own, and every logical thought managed to vanish from his mind. This wasn’t like kissing Mellissa (was that even her name? Arthur could barely remember now), this wasn’t like kissing anyone. This was kissing Ford, his eccentric, wonderful best friend, and he let his hands wander up to thread through Ford’s wiry ginger hair. Ford let out a barely perceptible moan and moved the hand that wasn’t gripping Arthur’s thigh up to push under his jumper and touch bare skin. Arthur whimpered into Ford’s mouth and leaned forward until he was practically lying on his friend.

The room was quiet except for the odd gasp and the shift of fabric on fabric. A sharp beep punctuated the silence.

Ford was up in an instant, grabbing the flashing device that he had discarded earlier and frantically pushing buttons. Without looking up, Ford began to make his way to his room without so much as a glance back at Arthur. As the bedroom door slammed behind him, Arthur could hear Ford muttering to himself but merely curled up on the sofa with a contented sigh.

A second later, the door opened again to reveal Ford standing there with a distracted, but no less frightening, grin. “Ah, slight turn of events.” he said casually, running his hand through his wild ginger hair as Arthur had done only a few minutes ago. “I’ll explain it all tomorrow but, well- you should sleep anyway.”

He tossed Arthur a large bathroom towel and turned to go, before Arthur called him back “Ford!”

Ford turned slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

“This place, that we’re going tomorrow.” Arthur said sleepily. “Will there be tea there?”

Ford seemed to think this question over seriously, before smiling confidently. “Yes, there will most definitely be tea there.”

As the door slammed behind Ford for the second time, Arthur pulled the towel around him and curled up once again, feeling his eyelids beginning to droop. He remembered the feel of Ford’s lips on his own, and grinned tiredly to himself.

Not such a terrible evening, then.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhh!
> 
> Srsly, as this is my first ((and so far, only)) fanfic, I am so so pleased with the response it has received both here and on ff.net! It isn't huge, but since this is such a smol ship I am very happy with the feedback I have received so far ((thank you my lovelies)). This is a very old fanfic and not up to my current standards, but it's amazing to hear when you guys are enjoying it!
> 
> My only ask is that please, if you enjoy this fanfic, leave a comment! I am just a smol farmer who wrote a story about a nerdy British man kissing a ginger alien, and your comments make my day!


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